Hamilton Oneshots
by dramatickeychanges
Summary: "ɪᴛ's ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴀ sʜᴏᴛ!" A collection of oneshots written for Hamilton which don't get more extreme than a T rating. Varying ships, ratings, and genres alike await.
1. Imaginary Friend

**Before you read this story, do know that I love taking requests. Provided that it can be contained in a summary of seven words or less. For example, this chapter's idea was merely "Philip has an imaginary friend." I'd love to hear fun history facts as well. And I'm not objected to any ships or AU, but I'd rather that'd be mentioned last, after the plot.**

 **That was a mouthful, so just enjoy!**

 **This Chapter:**

 **Rated T for morality realizations and like, one line that implies something adult?**

 **Ships are LAMS and Hamliza.**

* * *

Eliza had always been a heavy sleeper, Alexander noticed. As the night fell, her breathing slowed down until it was quiet snoring. Alexander's heart pounded as he left the bed they shared to head to the study. After all, his plan for an entire nation was more important than getting a little sleep. No matter how much a break seemed to become a better idea by the minute, this plan had to go through. He lit the candle sitting on the bedside. Candlelight illuminated Eliza's peaceful expression. Alexander smiled softly before opening the bedroom door.

He shambled through the silent hallways, holding the candle to light his way. Paintings and writings on the wall were passed by as he walked. He only stopped when he almost lost his step over a loose wooden floorboard. He stared at the full moon outside his window, free of any clouds. That's when he heard his son singing a familiar tune from his revolutionary days. Eliza had taught him the little tunes soldiers would cry before running into battle in the form of lullabies. But it somehow sounded like another voice was singing along. Alexander shook his head in disbelief. He noticed Philip never seemed to go to sleep, he was just like him in that way. He decided to keep Eliza out of this for once and opened the door.

Philip looked up, startled by the door's squeaking as it opened. "Little late, isn't it?" Alexander asked, sitting next to him. Philip kept his eyes on the floor, twiddling his thumbs. He pouted a little. "My poor son, he's gone mute," Alexander joked. "So why's my little sunshine still up?"

Philip shrugged. "You're up too. Ma says sleep is good for you." Alexander struggled not to laugh. Ever since he could talk, he would always show Alexander's outspoken nature and his knack for debating. Alexander stared at him, waiting for further explanation. Philip sighed. "Besides, my friend says he can only talk to me at night." Alexander faltered. It seemed he wouldn't be able to work tonight. Eliza would have his head if he didn't question Philip further. "Philip, what friend?" he said.

Philip smiled. "He's my imaginary friend, and he says he was your best friend too!" Alexander was still convinced that Philip made up this imaginary friend until he kept talking. "He was a brave soldier, weren't you?" Philip stopped to stare at a wall, almost as if it would answer his question. "...He says I should stop talking. That I would only make you more upset," Philip said.

Alexander felt tears sting at his eyes. That was usually what happened when he got frustrated, and it would especially happen when he was tired. "No, keep talking. Who is he?"

Philip looked back and forth between the wall and Alexander's face. "He says you've changed." Philip said. It felt like Alexander was being taunted. "I don't know why, because you're still the best Pa I know. Please don't get mad at me. John says he doesn't like seeing you upset." Alexander felt a lump in his throat. That wasn't a name he heard in a long time. It couldn't actually be him, right? His emotions seemed to be fighting among themselves, bringing up an internal fight he abandoned a while ago. He wanted to be angry at Laurens for not joining him in Congress, he wanted to lock himself up and finally face the grieving cycle after ignoring his feelings for so long, but he didn't want his memories of him to fade after he would move on.

He needed to remember those nights. Nights spent in taverns, trying to impress girls and bartenders alike. Nights spent in the humid South, redefining what it meant to be loyal as Loyalists and British soldiers assaulted them. Nights spent in a tent, when the work had gotten to the both of them and they would exchange a look that meant nothing to anyone else.

Alexander stumbled over his words until he created a cohesive statement. "Philip, can you tell me more? Please." He seemed to stress the last word with a force he only used when necessary.

Philip hugged his father, looking up at him. "He said he's so proud of what you've done for this country already. He said that I'm going to be just like you and that he's so happy to be by your side. See, he's smiling." Philip smiled back at the wall, his eyes creasing. Alexander loved and hated how much he looked like Laurens, though he would never express the latter.

"Laurens, can I see you?" Alexander said under his breath. And like that, the dust and ash particles in the room seemed to form into a human shape, the form now having mass and depth. He took on a ghostly form, Laurens reversing the timeline of his body's disposal until he looked human.

He was smiling, that much was true, but it seemed more pained than anything. Of course Alexander noticed, but a child like Philip wouldn't pick up on something like that. "Don't cry," Laurens' voice rang in Alexander's ears. Despite that, Alexander held on to him and let some tears flow. "Alexander, I never left for a minute," he said, "Hercules, Lafayette... they're all doing fine, just fine."

Alexander looked up at his face. That was a face that had rushed into battle, willing to die for a cause he cared about. If he were in Laurens' position, he would've done the exact same thing. But now, all he could feel was sorrow. Laurens was going to become a small footnote in future American history textbooks at most, despite him having an entire chapter in Alexander's life. It could have easily been Alexander in his place. Now he understood why George almost never let him into battle. Self-preservation had to be prioritized if he ever wanted a legacy.

"Alexander, I'm here as long as you and your children are happy. I'll be happy if Eliza's happy with you, and I'm happy that Philip is here with me." His voice soothed Alexander, despite his worries that he'd never hear it again after this.

"Laurens, I'm sorry," Alexander whispered. "I'm trying to abolish slavery, but I feel like I'm the only one who cares about the injustice going on. Essay after essay wouldn't be able to describe how awful I am." Laurens shushed him.

"You're not awful, despite every change, you're still the tomcat I know." He laughed. "Hey, remember you and Eliza's wedding? I still remember every part of it. How much simpler it was back then." Philip was fast asleep, Alexander noticed. He hoped that Philip had slept through Alexander's moment of vulnerability.

He muttered, in a voice nobody but Laurens heard, "Am I selfish for wanting to go back? To before the wedding, back with every one of you guys?" Laurens shook his head. "I love Philip too much though. I could never leave Eliza, I could never hurt her, but I love you guys too."

Laurens paused, and then said, "I know, I know. I love you too, Alexander. We all love you." Alexander's eyes widened, as if that was the only thing he needed to hear in that moment.

"Please stay," Alexander burst out. "God, I've missed you so much. I've been so busy to no avail." His hands were always cramped from writing, his eyes would tear up from long hours at his desk staring at papers, and his legs missed the action of battle. The action John shared with him, a rush that was only shared by them in the heat of the moment.

Laurens sighed, bringing a chill that lowered the room's temperature. "I can't stay forever, Alexander. You need to keep living without me. I promise I won't be a forgotten memory." He shifted his eyes. "I'm sorry too. Only fools would've ignored your cries for me to join you." Alexander felt the shame rise in him as he thought of Eliza and Angelica begging him to join them for the summer. He had begged John to come with him to Congress, and then he died shortly after.

Was that fate waiting for him? Alexander took in deep, shaky breaths. His stomach churned as he became too aware of his morality. But this time, he couldn't distract himself by burying himself in writings. There was only John's silent offer to stay and talk for a bit.

No matter what he did, he was destined to be selfish towards someone. So for once in his life, he was selfish to his country by staying with Laurens for a while. As the sun was on the brink of rising, Alexander yawned. Laurens chuckled. "I remember when you'd stay up for days at a time. Keep out of trouble while we're gone, okay?" Alexander nodded and laid down on the floor. Laurens knelt and kissed his forehead, leaving traces of dust and ash mixed together. "I'll see you sometime, Alexander." Alexander had fallen asleep next to Philip.

Eliza got up and stretched. Alexander wasn't in bed with her, as usual. She checked the study but, strangely enough, he wasn't there. Instead, she found him fast asleep in Philip's bedroom. But instead of being mad that Alexander was sneaking around at night, she felt a twinge of hope that Alexander still loved her and the children enough to think of Philip. The fact that he turned down their break seemed to be less significant, because Eliza somehow felt safe and comforted that Alexander would be all right by himself. "I love you too, Alexander," Eliza repeated Laurens' words, dusted off his forehead, and kissed him on the same spot that he had. Then Eliza snapped back to her reality. "Philip, get your bags! Grandpa's waiting upstate!"

Philip cheered and spun around. "Bye, Pa! Make our country more prouder!"

"Prouder, Phillip. Not more prouder," Eliza corrected him. "And yes, I hope he does our nation good." She wondered if the anguished begging she had done the night before still appeared in her voice, ready to expose her true feelings again. Then she saw Alexander stretch, a sly smile on his face, and those same feelings from that ball years ago showed up again. Like they were dormant, waiting for when it was safe for them to show. She idly thought about why she had subconsciously hidden her emotions more and more as the days passed. Like she was building walls for something that was coming.

Her son smiled. "John says Pa'll be okay without us."

"Sure he did," Eliza replied. In her mind, she hoped and prayed that this John was right. She ran her hands through Alexander's hair. She stopped after a few seconds due to running into a number of tangles. Their foreheads touched as Eliza whispered, "Take care of yourself, Alexander. Don't get into any fights, or any other kind of trouble."

"I won't," Alexander merely said, too dazed and tired to say any more.


	2. A Winter's Dream

**Thank you guys for reading this! I got two requests, which are always fun. Unfortunately, I haven't seen Les Miserables, (I intend to very soon, as my new title of theatre kid demands it.) so in the meantime, here's a soulmate AU. (These AUs are always the best.)**

 **This Chapter:**

 **Rated K.**

 **Ship is John Laurens X Peggy Schuyler.**

 **AU is Modern, though half of it takes place in the time A Winter's Ball takes place.**

* * *

My sisters were owning the ball. They really were, as they traded dancing partners gracefully and had men falling over their feet to talk to them. When Angelica's partner was trampled by a surprisingly energetic man whose name I did not recall, I decided enough was enough. I, Margarita "Peggy" Schuyler, would not spend another ball overshadowed by my sisters.

I marched to another corner of the ballroom, far away from the band playing. Several men and women sat at tables, happily chatting. Evidenced by the larger quantity of older people, I concluded these were the married couples. Despite my educated guess, a single person was trying not to look like he was leaning against the wall.

I tucked a loose strand of my hair behind my ear and marched towards him. Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself until I found myself talking. "May I ask why you're over here and not dancing?" I asked him. "This _is_ a ball."

He averted his gaze off of me. I knew it, I already messed it up by stating the obvious. I always knew that was the worst of me, along with my insistence of following every rule. Then he responded, and my hopes skyrocketed again. He said, "The music's too loud."

That would explain his unusual place to stand around. But still, the music was nowhere near as loud towards the middle. I informed him of this, and he still didn't back out of his excuse. I stood my ground and said, "Do you not have anyone to dance with?"

"Nobody that I particularly want to dance with, or who would want to dance with me. But if you're asking for a dance," the man started. I smiled and nodded. It was better to let him take the lead. "Then no. I don't dance with strangers."

"I'm not just some stranger," I impusively said, cursing myself under my breath after I finished talking. "We won't be strangers for long. I'm Peggy Schuyler. Yes, a Schuyler sister." I held out my hand.

He took my hand, shaking it. "I'm John Laurens. Yes, a Laurens brother." I would still be mad at him for mocking me, but I was more focused on the fact that he still didn't let go of my hand. His clothes were an indicator of some form of status. My family's had his father for dinner as well. He would've been taught how to give an appropriate handshake, silly as that sounded. This must be on purpose.

"You think I'm just some vapid girl, don't you?" I asked him. "That I'll be twirled around your finger just by existing?"

Laurens shrugged. "Yes and no. You don't seem like the type that enjoys action." I stopped in my tracks, mostly nervous because he was right. I always got a little afraid when minutemen and the Sons of Liberty were planning something big against the British, because I knew something bad would probably happen.

"I'm all about action," I said before thinking. I knew I should've just stayed in my usual corner or at least asked Angelica or Eliza for help. The most action I ever heard of is from the newspaper. Why was I trying to impress him? He was John Laurens, a fervent abolitionist. I was Peggy Schuyler, daughter of a slaveowner. In what universe would that work out, and did I even want to be in that universe? My mind yelled at me to just change the subject, so I asked, "What plans do you have for life?"

Laurens didn't even hesitate. "I've joined the revolution, worked my way up to having command of an all-black battalion. Everyday I spend with them, we've been making history. I'm at least hoping for a paragraph in our future American history textbooks. We're going to change lives for the better." He chuckled. "And your plans?"

Plans? I didn't think much about the future, I just assumed I'd be a high society woman for all of my life. My duties to the country would just be supporting a husband and having a few children. My plans were already made the minute I was born. So what else was there? Despite that, I was already speaking. "I want to support all kinds of freedom. I'll support our independence from Britain, I'll support the war in any way I can, and I'll make speeches against slavery."

That wasn't a sentence I ever imagined myself saying. The closest things to a speech I've ever given were wedding toasts. Wars for independence were a surefire way to get thousands imprisoned or killed. Despite my worries, Laurens seemed satisfied with my answer. "That's more than anyone here would even attempt," he commented, staring at the dance floor.

I immediately glared at him, intending to defend my sisters. He could call me an airhead, but not them. They actually had beliefs. "I'll have you know my sisters are all about bettering society for everyone. That includes freedom for slaves, giving orphans a home, and rights for women." Somehow, arguing with him gave me the same feeling Angelica always talked about. Pride. I felt the same fire Eliza had in her eyes when she saw the minutemen in the street.

But I was my own person, ready to cultivate my own feelings, my own fire. Laurens merely said, "You remind me of a few people I know." He looked at where Eliza was, where she was being introduced to a pair of men by the same person who was Angelica's dancing partner.

"So now that I'm not just a stranger," I said, ready to make a move, "how about a dance?" I held out my hand again, this time not prepared to take no as an answer. Strangely enough, he took the hand and started walking towards the middle of the room.

He took in what everyone else was doing, seeming to hesitate before he started waltzing with the beat. I quickly gained my footing. Many ballroom lessons have trained me to move to anyone's beat. Except my own, but that was a subject I'd focus on another day. The atmosphere was calm, despite his unsure steps and bursts of energy. It was easy to get used to, and easy to have fun with.

Angelica seemed to pull her partner towards me just to send me a quick wink. I restrained myself from laughing. Laurens lowered his head, looking down at his feet. "Sorry that I was acting a bit cold earlier," he merely said. He wasn't one for words, that I could easily pick up on, but his apology resonated within me. We were both just trying to stand out, and maybe make a difference along the way.

"I suppose I should provide an explanation for that," Laurens said, "I've just been a little bitter, well, really bitter. About things I can't really control."

"You're in command of a battalion, you're the son of a wealthy planter..." I explained myself before asking, "What more could you want?" Once the question was out of my mouth, I immediately regretted it. It was selfish to assume he'd be happy with just the things life handed to him. He had expressed wanting more for everyone around him.

Still, he seemed to ignore the question. He only replied with a quick, "Look up." In response, I could only take a look at the ceiling. Except there was no ceiling. Blindingly bright lights took its place, blurring the crowd around us until they were a faceless sea of ladies and gentlemen. The only people I saw were Angelica and Eliza, still close to the show I was in control of. The music faded more and more into the background until it was easy to hear the sound of our shoes against the floor.

And with John Laurens one of the only people I could focus on, it made it easy to see why I bothered to talk to him. I wanted to ask him if he was experiencing this as well, but it seemed like he was. "Have you experienced this before?" I asked instead.

"Have you?" he retorted, almost missing a step and falling. I didn't answer, wanting to keep him in tune with the beat. He explained it by saying, "I think it happens when you dance with someone you're meant to be with." My eyes widened in shock, not able to believe that this was happening. This was the person I was meant to be with.

I tried to make sense of it, only affirming what was already said by whispering, "Peggy Laurens."

Laurens was one step away from stopping the dance altogether. "We're not—" He tried again with a, "I have a—" He stopped until he was ready to talk again. "All in time, it's not as simple as you think. It's not going to be easy, because fate's not going to let us get together just like that."

"Fate's going to give us some challenges," I added to his idea.

John nodded. "I have a war to attend to," he said, like a war was as simple as a household chore. He grimaced, saying, "And we might not even like each other. We're just meant to stick together."

"I'm willing to give it a shot," I said, "Fate's only half of the equation, we've got to prove we can make it through it all." I didn't even understand the words coming out of my mouth. How strange when under a spotlight, I was prompted to finally give myself a voice. To give myself a personality outside of the naïve and ditzy rule follower.

Laurens smiled, a look that suited him more than his grimaces and worried expressions. "Right you are. We're going to make this work."

"We're going to make this work," I repeated with a little more force. It felt like only a perfect world would grant me that. Out of nowhere, he pulled me a little closer, close enough hear every sound of fabric brushing against fabric and every heartbeat of his. The spotlight dimmed as the faceless crowd vanished, replaced by an Eliza who was running and jumping around.

She jumped into the arms of a man I now recognized as Alexander. Why couldn't I remember who he was before? I was on a couch, snuggled into one of John's arms. I rubbed my eyes, letting out a yawn. He looked at me, a bit concerned. "Bad dream?"

"Weird dream," I said. "You were there, my sisters were there." I laughed. "Alexander was there, he ran over Lafayette to dance with Angelica. It was a ball, somewhere around the American Revolution. We waltzed and stuff." In a strange and tired daze, I tried to recreate the music playing with only my voice.

"I have to say that'd be something I'd definitely do," Alexander said. Lafayette playfully punched him in the shoulder. "Kidding," he explained, adding a threat along the lines of, "Don't make me drop Eliza or she'll make you feel her wrath."

"Wrath!" Eliza screamed, aiming her kicks at Lafayette. Alexander ran after Lafayette, though the chase was limited to the small space of the apartment. Angelica held up one of her legs, hoping to trip one of them so they'd all land on the mattress that covered some of the floor.

Lafayette stopped in his tracks, saying, "This calls for the help of my loyal steed." Hercules stood up from the couch, and bent down for the other to jump in his arms. "Attack them!" Lafayette ordered once he was in place.

I took hold of John's hand, merely saying, "This is nice."

He kissed my forehead. "Yeah, this is pretty amazing," he said after pulling away. Though it was a few words, it summed up exactly what I felt right now in that moment watching everyone have a good time.

It was nice to know I knew exactly who I was. I was Peggy Schuyler, not afraid of any challenge, whether it be 18th century social hierarchies, weirdly detailed dreams, or fate itself.


	3. Apologies

**Not a request, but I figured this would fill the time in between writing the last and next chapter. If that doesn't make sense, just know that it took me a few hours to write this instead of the days I'm taking.**

 **This Chapter:**

 **Rated T**

 **Ship is Jeffmads**

 **Highschool AU**

* * *

Alexander had made it through an entire week of working with Madison. Normally, this wouldn't be a huge deal. They usually were diligent workers and had grown to stand each other, as long as Alexander kept his mouth shut.

This week was different, however. Yet again, Alexander couldn't convince Mr. Washington that he was fully capable of working alone, because he would always fire back with an explanation of how he needed to learn to work with anyone for the real world. Usually, Alexander would say something about how highschool should at least teach students how to do taxes if they want to prepare them for the real world.

But would he really argue with Washington, out of all people? He was Mr. Washington, and his word was final. Madison was once again Alexander's partner as Alexander struggled to get along with anyone else. To him, Madison was almost like an equal.

Until this week, where Madison was snapping in and out of focus and staring at the table. Alexander would've loved to take over the group work and do everything, but there was a point where Madison's loud sighing got too much for him. That point was about ten seconds after he started working.

"I'm going to regret this," Alexander said, "but what's wrong?" He hadn't even written Madison's name on the top of the page and he was already too bothered to work. A problem that would end if he could somehow cheer up Madison, his logic concluded. And that needed to happen fast, this was a project.

Madison looked at Alexander. "You wouldn't care," he responded, not convinced by Alexander's special brand of showing concern for him. "And besides, you'd go about the problem the completely wrong way."

"Well," Alexander started, getting ready for a debate, "You wouldn't know how I'd react to this specific problem unless you asked me how I would. So that would require you to tell me the issue."

Madison still wasn't sure, even with Alexander's sound logic. "You'd beat him up and call him a variety of curses," he explained.

"Ah, does this have to do with Lee?" Alexander asked. Madison shook his head for no. "Samuel?" Again, he shook his head. Then Alexander realized, though he hesitated to say his name. "Jefferson?" he guessed, trying not to sound angry at the thought of Thomas.

The other nodded. "We got into a fight. It wasn't pretty." Alexander, despite disliking Madison, found it easy to feel sorry for him. What else would he do? Sympathize with Jefferson? "And now I'm not really sure I'm that important to him... Nothing you can do though, I'll just suck it up and do the assignment."

Alexander would be satisfied with this conclusion, but even he could see that Madison was still upset. Even he could see that Madison was on the brink of tears. "Hey," Alexander said, touching his shoulder, "We may severely hate each other, but I will take any opportunity to beat up Jefferson."

Madison sighed. "I don't want him to get hurt, Alex. I just want some sort of apology, because I already told him I was sorry for what I did." Alexander recognized the problem all too well, it was even something Burr told him he was guilty of. Pride. Jefferson couldn't accept that he was wrong as well.

"I have a plan," Alexander said, "We need rope, a tranquilizer... Can I borrow your basement? We can—"

Madison interrupted him. "We are not going to drug Jefferson and kidnap him. Can't you think of a normal way to get someone to apologize to you?"

"Demand an apology, of course," Alexander replied. "I got it. Meet me after school, we're going to hunt down Jefferson."

The other wasn't sure at first, but after a few moments of hesitation, Madison responded with, "Don't try anything illegal, Alex. Our goal is an apology, not a prison sentence." Alexander nodded, ready to slap some sense into Jefferson. Metaphorically slap him, the legal way.

After school, Alexander waited at the front of the school for Madison. He gave quick apologies to his friend group—made up of Laurens, Lafayette, and Hercules—because he wouldn't be able to walk with them. Madison walked out of the school, backpack in hand.

"So, does Jefferson do anything after school? Clubs?" Alexander asked, hoping to pin down where Jefferson was in ten minutes flat. The sooner he got to him, the better.

Madison shrugged. "He's in the drama club and the student council, but both of those clubs don't meet today. I mean, we can check his house, I've been there a lot. We can go just about anywhere, as far as my parents know, I'm in book club."

Alexander was almost impressed. "There's not even a book club at this school." The respect was only temporary, as he quickly snapped back into focus to find Jefferson. He said, "Did he tell you anything about what he was doing today?"

"I tried to talk to him but he ignored me. I know he saw me because he looked straight at me," Madison said, on the verge of ranting. "I swear, if he keeps treating me like garbage, I will give you my full permission to do whatever you want when we find him. You know what, I'm going to text him. If he has the nerve to ignore me then..."

Alexander looked over his shoulder as Madison took out his phone. "Hey, private stuff on here," Madison commented, shoving Alexander's head off of his shoulder. Alexander didn't want to guess what Madison felt were private things so, for once in his life, he backed off.

For a few minutes, all was quiet. Every student had left or stayed inside the building for clubs. Then Madison muttered, "He's at the mall. Bet he found a new... Oh, forget it, maybe my apology wasn't enough." He sprinted to the parking lot and stopped at a car, which Alexander assumed was his.

The drive to the mall was spent in awkward silence. Alexander looked at the roof of the car. Pasted on the roof were a few photos of Madison with Jefferson. Only a small number of pictures showed even a part of Burr. Alexander found it a bit funny that this was the first time he had seen Jefferson genuinely nice. "You two are close," he commented, hoping his comment wouldn't incite Madison to do something crazy.

Instead, he merely said, "Yeah, we are. He's been with me for all of my firsts, we've been friends since we were babies. I know his first word, and he can still remember my first birthday party. If you wanted to know, his first word was 'no,' and it was his favorite word for like, three years after." Madison finally cracked a smile. Before Alexander could even react, the smile faded. "So yeah, it kind of sucks that I'm losing him."

Madison parked in a space outside of the mall. He didn't seem ready at all. If Alexander was honest, he wasn't either. He pointed to a picture of Madison and Jefferson at a theme park, with an angry Burr in the background. "Story of this photo?" Alexander asked.

"We were all at an amusement park, and Thomas saw the mascot. It was like a ballerina or something," Madison said, "Thomas dared Burr to use his best pickup line on her. So Burr went up to her and said, 'Are you a ballerina? Because you make my head spin.' And obviously, he got rejected badly. I think he almost got kicked. Well, we told Theodosia the story and she thought it was the funniest thing that Burr had ever done."

Alexander pointed to a photo of Madison riding on Jefferson's shoulders while fireworks were going off in the sky behind them. "A few minutes after the New Year's countdown. Need I share more?" Madison explained. "You have any countdown traditions?" he asked out of the blue.

"Not really, we all just count down from ten and act absolutely wild as soon as New Year's hits," Alexander answered.

Madison shrugged. "Some people do the usual, cliché New Year's kiss." Alexander swore he heard him mutter Jefferson's name. "I used to think it was stupid. But to answer my question, I usually count down."

No doubts about his suspicion, Alexander asked, "Are you two dating?" It was a huge rumor among his friends, and he was actually starting to see why people would think that.

"What? We've been dating since middle school, didn't anybody tell you?" Madison asked.

Alexander shrugged. "To be fair, would you tell somebody, especially me, their two enemies were dating? Well, you're not my enemy all of the time. Especially not now." That was all he could do to patch up his mistake of calling Madison his enemy. It relieved him when Madison didn't seem upset.

Madison opened the car door. "Ready to go if you are," he said. Alexander stepped out of the car, completely confident that Jefferson would back down to him. Madison, surprisingly, looked as if he were feeling the same way.

They both walked inside the mall, which wasn't that crowded, to Alexander's surprise. "Let's not split up," Alexander asserted before the question was raised. "Let's wait near the entrance, he has to leave eventually."

"I say we wait near the food court," Madison said. "It's near the entrance." That was a convincing enough argument to Alexander, who usually had dinner around this time. He found a few dollars in his pocket, which was money saved for an emergency. Until Alexander spent it on french fries.

Madison ordered a cherry slushie and ranted between sips. "I feel like I'm going to explode unless this whole thing just blows over. Or maybe that's the slushie talking because I don't know how to feel. Angry, sad, disappointed, I don't even know."

"Wait, I saw Jefferson," Alexander said, interrupting Madison. "He just entered that store." He pointed at the store directly across the food court. Not having the will to leave his fries, Alexander took them with him as he walked with Madison. "We'll wait outside, okay? I'd rather not get banned from _another_ store in this mall."

Madison decided not to ask about that story, choosing to lean against the wall instead. "Is it bad that now I feel guilty? Like he's probably torn up about everything too, I might have said a few things I regretted."

"What even happened?" Alexander asked.

"We hadn't been hanging out as much anymore, and I felt like he was ignoring me. Everytime I text the guy, he waits until I'm asleep to respond. If he responds. But I still think I shouldn't have told him that I thought I meant nothing to him, that was an overreaction," Madison said, sighing, "So then he told me he got his phone taken away, which is the _exact_ excuse he uses when he wants to ignore someone. Then again—"

Alexander interrupted him by saying, "He's about to walk out." This was good timing, since he already got the point of the argument. He'd rather not listen to Madison endlessly set up reasons to hate Jefferson's guts then immediately disparage them.

Jefferson walked out of the store. Alexander marched towards him but stopped right in front of him when he saw the flowers. Madison was right behind him, clearly noticing the flowers as well. "This is awkward," Jefferson commented.

"I was planning on beating you up, but I want to hear this," Alexander said, demanding an explanation. Though the answer seemed obvious in hindsight, Alexander really couldn't guess why Jefferson had flowers in that moment.

Jefferson glared at him. "I was getting these for James to apologize, and then we'd go get dinner. Guess the surprise is ruined, but is there anything else you want to know?"

"If you're so sorry, than why were you ignoring me?" Madison asked, clenching his fists.

The other sighed. "James, that's what I'm sorry about too. I assumed you wouldn't want to talk to me for a while, and I felt guilty for not trying to. I was beating myself up over it, so I went here to get an apology gift. It's the least you deserve after all that."

Before Madison reached towards the flowers, Alexander stepped in. "Can you do me a little favor? If Madison will let me, of course." Madison wasn't certain about what Alexander was going to do, but he nodded anyway. "I want you to try that apology again on your knees. Beg for forgiveness. Then maybe we'll consider it. If not, I'm sure I can get a few kicks in before I have to run from security."

Madison was going to say he already had forgiven Jefferson, and that he didn't have to because he didn't beg. But Jefferson was already on his knees, saying, "I'd probably win the idiot award for ignoring you when I really shouldn't, that much is true. But I swear on my life that will be fixed. You don't have to forgive me, but just know that I care about you." Madison wiped one of his eyes and embraced Jefferson.

Alexander laughed, then said, "I will forever have the memory of Jefferson on his knees and begging." The other two looked at him funny. "That sounded wrong, I'm aware," Alexander explained, "I feel just as creeped out."

Jefferson rustled Alexander's hair. "You forgive me too, small fry?"

"For now," Alexander said, pushing Jefferson's hand away. "As long as you never call me that again." Madison smiled and pulled Alexander into the hug.

The next day, Alexander told the story to his group of friends. "That's the long version of the story of how I saved Madison's love life, you're welcome," Alexander bragged at the lunch table.

"So you're saying you helped Madison reconcile with Jefferson?" Laurens asked. Alexander nodded. "So by doing that, you saved Jefferson's love life too. And you didn't even insult anyone?"

Alexander nodded again, a bit ahead of himself. He quickly responded with, "I helped Jefferson? And acted nice? Oh my god, I did. Willingly, even."

"I never thought the day would come," Hercules said.

Lafayette laughed. "Helping the enemy. What's next, sleeping with the enemy?" He then got hit with a plastic water bottle. Which Alexander, the culprit, thought was completely deserved.


	4. Movie Night

**I am extremely past due on this one, I'm sorry! Also, happy Pride month! I'm so glad we live in an age where everything's changing for the better, no matter how small or slow the change is. Here's to equality for all! I'm actually going to celebrate this Saturday with my friends.**

 **In my spare time (little as it is,) I listened to Dear Evan Hansen and Be More Chill! So maybe I'll try something for both! I think I'll get around to Les Miserables and Spring Awakening.**

 **This Chapter:**

 **Rated K+**

 **Modern AU**

 **Marliza**

* * *

Eliza watched the microwave cook the popcorn. The rain was going strong, and would for the rest of the night if the weather channel was right. She watched the bag expand as the timer counted down to zero. It was a good time for her to have just figured out the perfect time for none of the popcorn to be burnt. The last time she tried, the microwave smelled like burnt popcorn for days. And also, her girlfriend was coming over soon. She grabbed the popcorn bag after it had finished popping for good.

In this rain, however, Eliza was starting to doubt anyone would be able to drive through all of the slippery or outright flooded roads. A knocking sound on her front door snapped her out of her doubts. She poured the popcorn into a huge bowl and headed towards the door.

Upon opening the door, she found a soaked Maria Reynolds. She stood up straight and muttered, "Greetings and salutations. Probably shouldn't have left my umbrella at home."

Eliza was merely concerned, saying, "No, it's okay. Come inside and warm up." That poor girl was shivering, what else could she do? She grabbed the blanket off of her couch and threw it at Maria. It landed on her head.

She tugged the blanket off of her head and held it in her hands. "It's not a life or death situation, y'know. I'm not going to _die_ or anything," she said, chuckling. Eliza still ran into her kitchen to make a cup of tea for her, as if Maria would keel over and die without it.

Maria, on the other hand, opened her bag to reveal her pajamas. By pajamas, that meant a faded red shirt that was too big for her and gray sweatpants. Which was comfort at its finest. She went into the bathroom to change, not feeling comfortable just stripping down in the living room. Though many would believe otherwise, she did have a twinge of decency. Actually, she thought she was a little ladylike, ridiculous as that sounded.

Eliza, a bit calmer, walked into the living room with a tray holding two mugs of tea. With the bag of sugar right next to it, of course. The two women shared one taste in food, and that was them both having a massive sweet tooth. Maria stepped out, certain she looked not at all ready for a date. At least the clothes weren't clinging to her for dear life.

Granted, it was just watching a movie. Maria was sure she couldn't mess up watching a movie. Unless the storm cut off the power, leaving the two of them in awkward silence. Maybe then, she would freak out and throw the remote at the television, breaking the screen and ruining everything.

Now she wasn't so certain she'd do fine. "Maria? You okay?" Eliza asked, reaching out with her free hand. "Wait, is this the first sign of hypothermia? Drowsiness, confusion... any chance you have a weak pulse?"

Maria snapped out of her daze. "My pulse is just fine," she said, with two fingers on her neck. If it got Eliza to stop worrying, she'd do it in a heartbeat. Pun not intended. Her stomach rumbled, to her embarrassment, and it didn't take long for her to figure out why. The scent of popcorn hung in the air, teasing her senses. "Hey, you made popcorn, right? Let's just relax and watch a movie," Maria suggested.

"Yeah, that sounds like fun," Eliza said, finding a new thing to focus on. "Um, I hope you don't mind, but I put some sugar in the popcorn bag. I tried it once accidentally and it's actually pretty good. Anyway, let's pop in a horror movie!" She jumped on the couch, but quickly got back up again because she forgot to put the CD in.

Maria resisted the urge to chuckle. "A horror movie? Did I get the wrong address, or did somebody replace my darling Eliza?" She admitted that was a surprise, the thought Eliza being unfazed by a slasher movie was as ridiculous as Alexander successfully not cheating on his partners.

Maria reminded herself to congratulate Alexander for not cheating on his current partner. That'll be a lovely visit. Eliza nervously brushed some strands of her hair back behind her ears. "Well, um, Peggy said I couldn't handle a movie like this, so I made a bet. You're gonna make sure the whole world knows that Eliza Schuyler isn't scared by anything." Eliza smiled, confident that the movie wasn't going to be that bad.

"And if you scream, I'll lie on your behalf?" Maria suggested, sitting on the couch. Eliza switched the television channel so it would play the DVD.

Eliza nodded in response. "Let's start the movie, Angelica said this movie wasn't that bad to watch." She sat down, placing the tea tray and popcorn bowl on the coffee table. She pressed the play button on the remote, and the DVD began playing. Maria started doubting Angelica's integrity when she saw all of the trailers rated M play.

And knowing Eliza, Maria looked at her to see if she was fine. Maybe fine wasn't the word she was looking for, the phrase 'not shaking' would be better. Fortunately, Eliza fell under that description. She was eerily calm as she muttered phrases like, "That's a lot of blood," and "That's not humanly possible." Maria debated on whether she was just disgusted or genuinely creeped out.

Eliza was not going to make it through this movie, Maria realized. Unless there was an interference that kept her from getting too absorbed, she was doomed. Then Maria had an idea that even she was confident in. There was no way you could be scared of a horror movie if you kept making fun of it, right?

Even more fortunately, Maria had already watched this movie as the title screen flashed. It was a dumb movie where a group of friends decide to explore a haunted house. Spooky. To think that the trailers were scarier than that. "The biggest twist of this movie is that the two people making out in the corner aren't the first ones to die," Maria commented, earning a chuckle from Eliza, who was recovering a bit.

"Aw, don't spoil it," Eliza remarked, ignoring the screen which showed the towering, dark mansion. "I wanna see what happens to... that guy." She pointed to a random guy wearing a red shirt and glasses. His eyes constantly shifted back and forth, and his hands were shaking.

Maria placed her hand on her heart. "I relate to that guy on a spiritual level. I'm going to name him Mark and I'm going to protect him with my entire being."

"Then I'll protect that one," Eliza pointed out an optimistic-looking guy, sporting a wide grin on his face. "His name is now Elliot, and he's my baby. Nothing bad will ever happen to him."

The group of friends entered the haunted house, but it didn't matter to Maria. "I thought I was your baby," she said, fake-pouting. "I might have to teach this Elliot guy a lesson."

Suddenly, the chandelier in the house fell, and Elliot instinctively grabbed Mark's arm. Eliza covered her mouth with starry eyes as she whispered, "Maria, our babies are getting along. I ship them so much, I think they're in a secret relationship."

Maria decided to keep quiet about what would happen to Eliza's ship. She merely enjoyed Eliza's rambling about how the two would get married after the whole haunted house thing.

"We can't go on," Mark said, reaching a dead-end in the house with Elliot by his side. There was a mirror on the wall.

Eliza shook her head, yelling, "You can literally go the opposite way!" Maria smiled, this was the part. "Wait... Maria, please tell me they'll be okay. And also tell me who the killer is." The mirror flashed red as Mark stood in front of it. Eliza was close to freaking out, "Mark, I swear to god if you do what I think you'll do..."

Mark pulled out a knife and approached Elliot. Eliza slumped in the couch, grumbling about how she was always deceived by the anxious and goal-driven characters. Maria stared at Eliza with a sly smile on her face. "Well? Enjoying the scary movie?"

Eliza threw her arms in the air, and said, "I don't even feel scared, I just feel betrayed. Those two had a lifelong burning passion for each other that should've lasted their... well, life!"

"Would it make you feel better if I told you my theory about the movie?" Maria asked. Eliza nodded, clearly needing some comfort. Maria went on to explain, "Well, I think Mark, or whatever his name is, is possessed by a demon. I mean, look at his stare and the demonic symbolism." She rewinded the movie to the exact moment. "So in conclusion, your ship is technically not dead. Metaphorically not dead, I mean."

"Why are you an expert on demons?" Eliza inquired. "Should I be worried?"

Maria stumbled over her words as she explained, "Well... I find demons are very attractive... as a subject... Yeah." Eliza snickered, though Maria didn't feel like she was genuinely being teased. That was the kind of relationship they had, they could freely make fun of each other.

There was a small silence which Maria filled with, "Is it too soon to make stabbing puns about Elliot?"

Eliza couldn't help herself from laughing, but she managed to nod her head and say, "Yes. Too soon." She wrapped her arm around Maria, and for once, Maria didn't tense up. She was starting to get used to Eliza's bursts of affection. And it was sweet to her that Eliza took her time and didn't like to rush things without her approval.

Maria didn't feel like she was just there for other's use, yet she also didn't feel like a fragile doll. It was just right to her, how Eliza's hand fit into hers, and how a few locks of hair tickled Maria's shoulder, and how it was easy to ignore the mass murder happening on screen.

In fact, Maria didn't even think Eliza was still awake. Which was a problem, because there was a part she really needed to see. With her free hand, she shook Eliza's arm lightly until her eyes opened.

Drowsily, Eliza muttered, "I'm sorry for dozing off. I was hoping for a Mark and Elliot dream but instead I got a dream where John kept shoving turtles in my face and naming them one by one in an endless loop." She shivered.

"Y'know, some dreams have a deeper meaning," Maria started, "The turtles are a symbol of John's neverending routine which he hopes to break by jumping out of his comfort zone."

"Bargnarg the turtle was my favorite," Eliza added, "And Gneurshk the turtle." Sometimes Maria was in awe at Eliza's imagination, and a lot of the times it left her dying from laughter.

Maria then stated, "Maybe that dream doesn't have a deeper meaning. You should tell John about that dream."

"Pfft," Eliza said, "Don't think you can get rid of me that easily. I'm here to stay."

She smiled brightly, and Maria responded with a quick, "I know, I know." She clutched Eliza's hand and held it. "That's why I love you."

Eliza didn't even hesitate to reply, "I love you too." Her eyes sparkled, she always was earnest when she told those words to Maria. And that type of optimistic honesty was hard to ignore and even harder to hate.

That's why Maria found it easy to love Eliza with all of her heart, despite all of their troubles and worries. But for now, she decided to put off worrying until tomorrow. There was a movie to finish.


	5. History Reimagined

**Thank you for your continued support, and I'm covering one of the first requests. I admit it was confusing what they meant by married, but I managed. And yes, all of those fanfiction chapters from Alex are real, whether they are stuff I wrote, things I am writing, or based off of other authors I really love!**

 **This Chapter:**

 **Rated T**

 **Ship is LAMS**

 **Teacher AU**

* * *

It all started when Alexander burst into his classroom one morning with a bag in hand. He dropped the bag on Laurens' desk and said, "You left your clothes at my place." Laurens hesitated to respond as he noticed most of his students staring at them.

Laurens muttered for only Alexander to hear, "Don't come into my classroom unannounced like that. It's distracting." Distracting for both his students and him. He was supposed to be grading tests and instead he was staring at Alexander like an idiot.

"Why shouldn't I? It's homeroom, before class, and Hercules is watching my classroom," Alexander explained with a smirk on his face. The other would use this moment to tell him having Hercules in charge of his class was a bad idea, but there was another thing on his mind. As he scanned Alexander up and down with a scowl, he put a pin on what that thing was.

Laurens sighed. "Our students are starting to suspect something," he said, hoping that was enough of a hint for Alexander to back off. Of course, Alexander didn't. He needed to be more blunt, so Laurens added, "Between us."

"That we go to each other's houses?" Alexander nervously guessed, twiddling his thumbs. "I think that's a fair assumption to make."

"No," Laurens said, "They think we're _dating_." Alexander seemed genuinely surprised, though the thing that worried him more was the fact that a girl decided that was the best moment to come up to his desk. Laurens resisted the urge to slam his head into the keyboard. Of course, now she was going to tell everyone that Laurens told Alexander that they were dating. Laurens hated how cliché life had to be.

The girl in question was Theodosia, Theodosia Jr. to be more specific. She gave Alexander a note, saying, "Mr. Mulligan said this is where I could find you. My dad called you last night about my essay grade. He told me you were advocating favoritism and that you were a lying son of a..." She paused. "And then he told me not to repeat that last part." She exited the classroom before he could react.

Alexander let out a long exhale. "Aaron's kid again, I swear she'll be the death of me. I think he has some sort of grudge against me, it's not my fault she forgot to read the material and just watched the movie for the book." Laurens was more worried about the fact he wasn't any bit concerned about the rumors going around, but he found a way to calm himself back down in the form of tapping his fingers against his desk.

Laurens sighed again. "Every time I hear something about Theodosia, I still can't bring myself to believe that guy's an actual parent," Laurens ranted. Sure, the kid was a star student, but she preferred to spend her time hanging out with her best friend. Speaking of which, Laurens then asked, "How's Philip?"

Alexander smiled. "He's doing just fine, he took the divorce pretty well. Eliza's actually volunteering at an orphanage today." Laurens straightened his posture, surprised he didn't notice the absence of Alexander's wedding ring. Then again, what kind of person stares at people's hands?

"Well, good for her. She's always been good with children," Laurens commented. Which made sense, considering she was studying to become a pediatrician.

The bell rang. Alexander said goodbye to Laurens before rushing out of the classroom. Laurens wondered how he became so close to a teacher late to his own class. It only took Philip waving his hand in front of the teacher's face to snap him out of his daze.

Laurens stood up from his desk. "Everyone quiet down. Today, we're starting a new unit and learning about the Civil War. Well, I'm not learning, because I already know about this cool as heck war. It changed the entire course of American history, eradicated slavery, and destroyed economies that relied on the slave labor system." He pulled up his usual slideshow. "We start at the location of Fort Sumter. Take notes if you want."

Fortunately, his students had the good sense to listen to his rants on the various skirmishes that led to the breakout of an entire civil war. Unfortunately, as soon as he finished up around the slide about the Anaconda Plan, one hand when up. He asked the usual, "Is this related to the lesson? If not, wait a few seconds while I pass out the assignment." Philip shook his head, putting down his hand.

The passing out didn't take long, and he didn't find it in him to ignore Philip's question. Philip went up to his desk. Laurens somehow predicted that it'd be about Alexander.

Philip held his hands and asked, "Are you and my dad...?"

"No, we're not dating," Laurens said. He kept himself from sighing. These kids took every mannerism of his the wrong way, especially the ones he called the relationship theorists. He wondered if there was an official name for that.

Philip looked at him like he was crazy. "Then you just hang out a lot?"

"Yes," Laurens answered, getting a bit tired of the exchange. "Can't we be friends without everyone overanalyzing every aspect of it?" He hated how his teacher instinct was telling him to just send Philip back to work. Maybe he was getting a little _too_ used to his job.

"I'm pretty sure friends don't constantly write stories about being with each other," Philip said. Laurens was confused, his train of thought crashing into a wall, but he was curious. Philip explained further, "My dad has like, a whole notebook of them. Don't ask how I got it." Laurens debated whether he should inform Alexander that his son was snooping in his stuff or just tell Philip to get back to work.

Laurens looked at the notebook Philip handed him. That was definitely Alexander's handwriting, he noticed immediately. "Um, go back to doing your assignment, Philip," he said, hoping to get him off of his back for the rest of the day. He had some reading to do. He flipped to the first page, unsure how to feel about all of this.

He almost burst out laughing when he saw the table of contents, but he quickly reverted back to his serious expression. "Let's see..." He went through the notebook, looking at things that caught his eye. "Alex and me in college... I'm working at a coffee shop where the very attractive Alexander is a regular customer." He couldn't help himself from smiling. Alexander was seriously a stereotypical teenage girl at heart. "I'm trapped in a wedding and Alex saves me from boredom."

The stories started to get weirder. "Wait, I'm fighting in a war? I'm a _ghost_? Alexander and Jefferson do _what_ while drunk? What the hell is a squip?" he muttered. He swore Alexander's creative mind would be the death of him one day from just how outlandish the stories got. Some of the stories weren't even _about_ him.

Alexander's lunch break was going to be very interesting, he concluded. Laurens didn't close the notebook though, taking the rest of the time in the hour to read it, only interrupted by students who needed help.

Classes went as normal as it could, but Laurens didn't care at this point. As soon as he finished instruction, he went straight to his desk to keep reading. The parts where he would crack up were always Alexander's long descriptions of his attractive features. With the descriptions of himself making him feel uneasy at how longwinded and complimenting they were.

The lunch bell came after his last class. Laurens almost wished he wasn't cut off, he was in the middle of reading about an angst-filled love triangle among him, Alexander, and Thomas. He made the easy decision of not telling Alexander's declared nemesis about that piece of fiction.

He went outside to the courtyard, the lunch Eliza had made him in hand. Laurens swore she was like his mother with the way she made meals for everyone and kept him and his friends all in line. He quickly found Alexander with Lafayette, the drama teacher.

Hercules threw his arm around his neck, his special way of greeting Laurens. He was the home economics teacher, which meant there always were a few students sporting bags of cookies or brownies. He also made embroidered pillows. Laurens knew this because that was his students' comfort of choice when they slept in his class.

Laurens pushed his arm off. He quickly said, "I need to talk to Alex, stay there for a minute please."

Alexander was in the middle of a heated argument with Thomas, the French teacher. Laurens got in between them to address him. "Alex?" he said to get his attention.

His wish for attention was almost immediately granted, with Alexander looking Laurens straight in the eye. This was the moment Laurens realized he hadn't planned a bit of the conversation he had in mind. He cursed himself for freezing up.

Laurens finally choked out a, "Uh, your son... He gave me this notebook." He held it out, trying to keep his hand from shaking.

Thomas chuckled. "Is that Alexander's diary? I'll trade you my lunch for it." Alexander was walking a thin line between angry and nervous, looking between Thomas and Laurens with very different emotions.

"You wouldn't have happened to read it, right?" Alexander said, trying not to look suspicious as he snatched the notebook from the hands of Laurens. Laurens nodded, and Alexander cursed under his breath. Not knowing what else to say, he added, "Did you like the stories?"

Laurens almost didn't hear him. "What? I liked them, I guess." He grabbed the notebook and flipped to one of the pages he remembered most. "I liked the idea here of us being pirates. You've definitely done your research, but I think someone would definitely hear what you detailed us doing in my cabin. I know it's a bit cliché to have someone walk in at the end, but it'd be realistic, y'know? Just a suggestion, maybe it could be Lafayette." Lafayette, upon hearing his name mentioned, decided to listen in. Hercules wasn't far behind.

He would be surprised that he was being so nonchalant about the fact Alexander was writing stuff like that, but then he remembered that it was Alexander writing these. This sort of thing was basically weekly. Laurens flipped to the end, stopping to look at an envelope taped to the last page. "Can I read this?" he asked.

Alexander shrugged. "I mean, what else could I write that'd be worse?"

"I could think of a few things, but good point nonetheless," Laurens commented before opening the envelope. "Uh, hey, could you write a sequel to that one chapter? I mean, I don't really get why I'm—"

Alexander interrupted him. "Okay, let's not talk about my secret writing journal anymore. Thomas is _right_ there."

"Oh, no. I already read them," Thomas said, laughing. "I recognize one of them, I think Philip left the notebook in my class one day. 'A passionate night at Thomas' house leaves Alexander confused and more importantly, with a killer hangover.'"

If there was a wall by Alexander, he would've been banging his head against it. Laurens pulled out the note and started reading. "Dear Pa, I've been reading these stories. Don't worry, I skipped the M-rated ones. It's really obvious with the descriptions of my history teacher that you have the hots for him. I mean, it's a little weird that he looks exactly like me, but I've digressed. Oh, by the way, thanks for teaching me the word digress. Well, you probably won't read this. Sincerely, your son Philip. P.S., the whole school is in on it."

"What does he mean by the whole school is in on it?" Thomas asked. Laurens shrugged, he's heard his fair share of rumors of their secret relationship, but it being schoolwide?

"Well, I guess the secret's out. The whole school knows I have some sort of crush on the history teacher. Awesome, wow," Alexander ranted. It was like him to fill awkward silence with even more awkward rambling. "I'm going to go..."

"No, wait, don't go?" Laurens said, twiddling his thumbs, "Do you maybe wanna go get coffee? I mean, you don't have to but..."

Alexander shook his head and muttered, "Have I ever said no to you, Laurens? More importantly, have I ever said no to coffee? That's your answer." Laurens smiled, his sudden bout of nervousness more subtle. Alexander took hold of Laurens' hand. "So Saturday?" Alexander asked. Laurens nodded.

"Ha, you owe me bonus points Mr. Jefferson!" Philip yelled. "I told you they'd be dating by second semester!" A group of students next to them seemed to hear and gathered around Philip, eager to hear the news.

"Don't tell me we have to travel to a completely different town to not get stalked by our students," Laurens said, chuckling.

Alexander smiled. "I'm afraid we might. But any distance is fine with me, if I'm hanging out with you." Laurens pouted but had already forgiven his cliché line. Sometimes clichés were nice to be living through.


	6. Congratulations

**I decided to go back to historical times for this oneshot, because Congratulations is a song I treasure. Consider this a birthday gift from me to you guys!**

 **Quick announcment: I'll be diverting most of my attention to my other story, but there will be more oneshots!**

 **This Chapter: Historical, rated T for slight swearing.**

* * *

The door to Alexander's study slammed open. Angelica, with her fists clenched stood there without talking. Waiting for Alexander to explain himself, she glared him down.

"Angelica," Alexander weakly greeted, reaching out to embrace her. The weight of what he's done has finally crashed down on him. Eliza hated him, his children couldn't bear to be in the same room as him, and whatever Angelica had to dish out would be deserved.

"Alexander," Angelica said, her expression darkening. He wasn't begging for forgiveness, this was the man who thought crushing her sister's heart was unimportant in his quest for a legacy in a country that wasn't ready to hear her voice and take it seriously. But she knew Alexander would heed her warning, Alexander was the only man who took her opinions seriously. But this is where her sacrifice led her, and she had to put down the monster she unleashed on Eliza before it was too late. "Congratulations," she burst out, her fingernails digging into his back.

She heard the news in London. While the elite of England looked down on America as its first sex scandal was brought to light, she had been planning her speech. She knew if she barged into his study without any sort of forethought, she'd bring her old feelings to light again and go out of control. Angelica pushed Alexander's hands off of her, relieved when he didn't try to reach out again.

"After everything Eliza's done for you..." Angelica started saying, "She loved you, she gave you kin, she supported you when you thought the whole world was against you. And now, this is how you repay her." She held the offending documents and shook them in the air. "Now the whole world really is against you, congratulations!"

"I had to admit my wrongdoings. Do you really think they'll keep a bastard immigrant suspected of stealing government money without any sort of retribution?" Alexander proposed, his eyebrows upturned in worry.

Angelica held three fingers up. "Three people were going to accuse you of embezzlement. Three people who wouldn't have been believed because they're your political opponents. They've won, because you didn't think to keep your mouth shut!" Angelica tapped her foot against the floor. She was mad because he had the nerve to break her dear Eliza's heart, but she was even more angry that he had an affair in the first place.

Now that the silence between them was apparent, there was a question lingering on her mind, begging to be answered. "What did she have that Eliza didn't?" she asked, her eyes glued to the floor.

"Angelica, I can assure you that I wasn't thinking straight in that moment. Eliza means the world to me," Alexander explained, putting his hand on his heart.

Angelica dared not to soften. He was still that man who married to climb social ladders, and she would never set that aside. "She clearly meant nothing to you if you succumbed to another woman. You had the most loving wife in your life, and you went and destroyed her for something as superficial as the opinion of others. Congratulations, now the world knows you care about what strangers think more than your actual wife."

"It was an act of political sacrifice! Angelica, you wouldn't understand," Alexander defended himself without hesitation.

"You're right, I'll never understand what a political sacrifice is," Angelica said, her expression changing to remorse, "I'll never hold public office, I'll never be respected even if I had the best character or qualifications. But I sure as hell know what a sacrifice is!" She seemed to only get angrier at the sight of Alexander's guilt. "Everytime I look at you, I think about how things could've gone differently. I think about me being happy, for once in my life, me winning. And then I think about how I would crush Eliza, and I quit indulging myself. So go find a dictionary and look up sacrifice because you've never given, much less sacrificed. You've never even met sacrifice!"

For once, Alexander shut up and finally let Angelica rant. "Eliza is one of the only things in my life that I would never change, she's my everything. She has suffered enough heartbreak, and though you underestimate her strength in the worst of times, I want you to give her everything you owe her. I want you to not expect any forgiveness from her, because if I were her, I would never forgive you."

"Angelica..." Alexander said, pausing, "What do I do with myself now? I know of heartbreak as well, and I resent myself for bringing it upon someone as sweet as Eliza. I've damaged more lives than I could ever imagine."

"Alexander, I know you've lost important people in your life. You've lost almost everyone who's loved you. But if you think that excuses you, then you're wrong," Angelica said, a bit calmer. "Your job is to continue loving Eliza for the rest of your life, like those who loved you did. If I hear about any 'sacrifice,' it better be for her, because she's the person you're fighting for now. Not a country, not a legacy, someone who loves you without hesitation."

Alexander held his arms, looking at the ground. He sighed and said, "I promise to find a way to make my legacy and never break her heart again. Or at least keep her happy, I can't promise for things that are out of my control."

There was a silence as Angelica drew her breath. Just once, she decided to forgive him. He was clearly distraught. And then Alexander was sniffling. Angelica kept her guard up but reached out towards him. "Alexander, are you okay?" She wouldn't pull the satisfied question, she already knew the answer. But she didn't know the answer to whether Alexander was okay.

Alexander let a few tears slip, but he wasn't letting himself breakdown. He answered with, "Is it really appropiate for you to be asking about my feelings when Eliza's the one who needs you? I don't deserve your time." Angelica froze. Finally he had a good point, but she knew from Eliza that he refused to exit his study. How he refused meals, and closed himself off. There was a specific moment in his life where he changed, but what?

"Alexander, you can't possibly take care of Eliza if you're not doing so for yourself," Angelica said with her familiar stern tone. She hoped her advice would trigger something in Alexander. She didn't feel bad for slapping some sense into him, but now, she needed to be listening.

Alexander muttered, "Why should I? I've disgraced my family. Everywhere I go, I get shameful stares. I don't deserve Eliza, or even a meal. Can you go away now? Please, just leave me be."

He was desperate to be alone. Desperate to shut up. And if this was what you'd expect from Alexander, Angelica would've told you that was the wrong person. Because she knew differently. She reached out and grabbed his hand. "I'm on my sister's side. And she wants you to be sorry, yes, and she's willing to forgive you. You are going to take that path. And the people you've lost will not blame you for not always being there, because you are a human being. You're bound to make mistakes."

And sure, Alexander being told he wasn't perfect hurt him in ways no other insults could, but her message reached him. Alexander hugged her, if only for support. And Angelica felt the weight of what he was going through by seeing tears, cuts, and burns alike. All from some sort of war, there were wounds that covered his exposed wrists and ankles.

Angelica felt a twinge of discomfort knowing that some of the burns were new. She sighed. "Did Eliza tell you to be more careful when putting out the fireplace? Or the candles?" She knew Eliza would keep a naïve air around her, not because she was vapid, but because she never wanted to assume the worst.

Alexander nodded on her shoulder. "Well, I'll say it again. Don't burn yourself. The doctors might have to take the writing arm if you keep it up," Angelica joked. In the end, she was still Alexander's dear older sister-in-law. Alexander nodded again, and pulled away. "Do you want to talk about it?" Angelica asked, "I won't be mad. Unless it's about cheating on Eliza."

"It's definitely not that," Alexander said, a dry chuckle escaping. And so, he told her everything. Among his mother's passing when he was twelve, the hurricane that hit his town when he was seventeen, the suicide of his cousin, and the war that had him see the deaths of his peers whether it was from infection, blood loss, or starvation. He told her about the letters to Laurens that kept him going, and then the loss of Laurens that triggered something within him.

Angelica finally got it when Alexander had once said he didn't want to talk about his family, it wasn't just because he was poor and wanted to climb the social ladder. She finally got it. "You want to be accepted," Angelica said, "You've only been known as an orphan born out of wedlock, so you felt like you had to prove something. You're an outcast with nothing to lose."

"Gee, thanks Angelica," Alexander said, wiping at his damp eyes. "I'll be sure to remember that." The last bit wasn't sarcastic, he finally admitted to himself that some of her advice was needed. When Angelica left him to go spend the day with Eliza, he sat on his chair, reading the newspaper. It felt a bit surreal that entire pages were dedicated to him. Normally, this would be great, but the articles covered the Reynolds Pamphlet.

Alexander felt remorse for the woman that had been on his doorstep. If the rumors around Alexander were this bad, imagine Maria, the supposed woman to blame for all of this. He imagined Angelica nor Eliza would blame her, and he found the thought nice.

At least with Angelica's begrudging support, Alexander would learn how to support his children. No matter what problems they had.

Then Philip burst into the house. "Pops, if only you heard the shit he said about you! I knew you wouldn't let it slide, and I was not about to!"

His son was ranting about someone named George Eaker, but Alexander couldn't find the point of his son telling him this. "Slow down, Philip. What's going on?" He was assuming the worst already.

"I got into a skirmish with George Eaker at the theatre. He called you a scoundrel, and I was not about to let him go off easy, and now we're going to duel and—" Philip was interrupted by Alexander shushing him. Concerned was Alexander's only emotion, he knew duels could escalate into those that actually ended with one walking away.

Alexander sighed. It was Philip, his son, and he was too much like Alexander. Warnings wouldn't do it for him. Advice would, though. He then asked, "Did your friends attempt to negotiate a peace?"

Philip shook his head, and then elaborated with, "He refused to apologize, we had to let the peace talks cease." Alexander asked him where it was happening, and it took Philip a moment or two to remember. He answered, "Across the river in Jersey."

"Everything is legal in New Jersey," they both said, afraid of what was to come. Alexander knew now was the moment Philip would listen to him the most. "Philip," he began saying, "When they countdown from ten, you're going to hold your ground. When the time comes, you're going to raise your gun towards the sky. If George is truly a man of honor, he will back down. Taking a life is a serious matter."

His child smiled, and said, "Thanks, Pa." It was worrying to imagine his son in a duel this early in his life. It was awful to imagine him with someone's blood on his hands, yet even worse if he did end up not surviving.

"Here, take my guns. Make me proud, son," Alexander concluded, handing him his case that kept a set of guns. Philip took these words and ran back outside, ready to face the argument he had fired up with newfound confidence.

He never thought he'd hear Angelica's voice in his head yelling, "Congratulations, you probably sent your son to his death." Alexander sighed. He was not going to get much work done today.


End file.
